


Donald Trump Gets Punched in the Face

by quartzapple



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Implied Castiel/Dean Winchester, Other, Trickster Gabriel, Trump gets punched in the face, this is very silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 13:23:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9550913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quartzapple/pseuds/quartzapple
Summary: Donald Trump gets punched in the face by Dean Winchester. That's it.





	

Dean couldn’t believe his luck.

Not only did this new job involve breaking into somewhere with a ridiculous amount of security, but it also came with a ridiculous danger of death – and all for one puny little exorcism. He’d just have asked Cas to deal with it, but he was off doing something vaguely angelic and Sam said there was some kind of bullshit technicality with this particular case that required human intervention, and anyway we really don’t want to waste Cas’ time, bla bla bla.

“…during a security switch-over-“ Dean tuned out the AC/DC blasting from the Impala’s sound system to pay attention to Sam, who responded with patented Bitchface Three Hundred and Forty Nine: I-know-you-haven’t-been-listening. “Dude, this is really important if we don’t want to get shot and locked up forever. Plus the future of the world is at stake, but that’s whatever, right?”

Dean huffed and lowered the volume without taking his eyes off the road. It wasn’t like the traffic was particularly bad, just slow and slightly unpredictable due to the circumstances.

“So we burst in, punch him in the face and leave?” Dean said, ignoring his brother’s probably legitimate concerns. “Are you sure that’s what the book said?”

“Yep, it’s all in here,” Sam replied whilst waving a musty old tome around vaguely. “Some weird loophole in this particular demon’s mythology. It certainly makes things easier for us, at least in some ways.”

“Punching a dude in the face? Sounds like an average Tuesday. Punching the freaking President of the United States of America in the face? Sounds like a great way to get shot by the men in black,” he paused to gingerly navigate the traffic. The last thing they needed was their getaway vehicle (not to mention Dean’s prized possession) wrecked due to other peoples’ shitty driving and a couple of police blockades. “Are you sure we can’t just get Cas to zap in, sock the bastard, and zap back out?”

“Nope, it has to be done by a human. The book doesn’t exactly say why but it’s very specific on that point,” Sam frowned at the book. It certainly seemed legitimate. It had been in the Men of Letters’ library and everything. It even smelled legitimately mouldy and was bound in some very questionable leather. He’d been marginally surprised that it lacked an incantation to summon Cthulhu or something; an invasion of Elder Gods would honestly be the least of America’s current problems.  “It isn’t like he doesn’t _deserve_ a good punching?”

Dean noted the careful probing of that question. Sam wasn’t blind, and Dean wasn’t so poor at introspection that he didn’t realise there might be other, Cas-and-hot-guy-attraction-related reasons on the table for his willingness to perform an act of what the right-wing media would likely term terrorism or something.

Either way, Trump was getting punched.

* * *

Dean’s knuckles collided wetly with the side of the President’s mouth, interrupting whatever godawful speech about the alleged evils of immigration. Whilst being restrained by security, he watched as Trump’s beady eyes watered and his hair quivered stupidly as he picked himself up off the ground. He spat once, a bloody tooth falling from his mouth as easily as hateful words seemed to.

The applause of protesters greeted Dean and Sam as they were carried away into the back of an unmarked police van.

* * *

“Well boys, you carried that out just perfectly!” A smug voice declared from the door of their cell. They’d been shoved in the nearest police station’s jail as a temporary measure, awaiting transfer most likely to Guantanamo Bay or some other, more obscure torture facility. Both their heads snapped up in unison.

Leaning against the doorway was none other than a rather self-satisfied Archangel Gabriel. He removed his dark sunglasses to increase the effectiveness of his smirk.

“Wha - how – you’re dead!” Sam exclaimed, rising to his feet. “What the hell?”

“Hell didn’t have an awful lot to do with this,” Gabriel said wryly. “This is mostly humans’ doing. By Dad, you lot sure can mess shit up. I haven’t heard this many prayers wishing death upon a politician since Nixon. Anyway, I’m not dead and I’m here to conveniently explain everything. Oh, and break you out of jail. You’re welcome,”

Sam swiftly pulled out Bitchface Eighty Six as Gabriel teleported them back to the bunker.

* * *

“So what you’re saying is, you constructed an elaborate scheme to have us punch Donald Trump in the face to…send a message?” Dean said, flabbergasted. Gabriel was still decked out in his obviously-not-a-CIA-agent suit and that alone was kind of annoying. “Dude, we nearly got murdered for ideology?!”

“People have been martyred for less. Hell, poor old Saint Sebby was martyred twice. Gets you a pretty sweet deal up in Heaven, honestly,” Gabriel quipped. “Besides, you and your hot brother right there weren’t ever in any real danger; I’d have swooped in and saved you before they could torture you or something because Cassie totally called dibs-“

“I get it,” interrupted Sam. “We, as a species, fucked up, so punching that symbol of fucked-up-ery sort of…works towards balancing the fuck scale?”

“Got it in one, sweet cheeks,” Gabriel replied, winking at Sam. With a soft flutter of wings, Castiel appeared behind where Dean was seated.

“Hello, Dean,” he intoned, stepping impossibly closer to rest his hands on the back of Dean’s chair. Dean leaned back into the warmth of Cas’ presence, shoulders brushing against the backs of Cas’ hands.

“Nice for you to join us, little bro! We were just discussing the moral reasons behind punching assholes in the face. Wanna join?”

* * *

 

“Social media outlets are largely praising the unidentified individual who assaulted President Trump this afternoon-“

“Suspect may have ties to radical Communist group, FBI confirms-“  
“No Trump! No KKK! No fascist USA!”

“Commentators warn that this clearly calculated act by a clearly deranged individual may trigger a rise in physical protests against the President-“

“This is why open carry is so essential to American values! If I’d had my rifle, I’d have shot the bastard square between the eyes before he could touch a hair on my President’s head-“

“National security is, of course, in question as a result of this incident-“

“The White House has yet to issue a statement about this incident, but an inside source can confirm that President Trump is deeply humiliated-“

“I really had no idea people felt so strongly about this…I mean, that guy risked his neck to punch Trump…that’s some commitment-“

“Unconfirmed source links Trump puncher to ISIS-“

“Y’know, I think he did us all a favour. We all want to punch Trump, and now we can relive the moment of a random, average guy punching an overpowered asshole in the face on YouTube and laugh, and laugh, and laugh.”

**Author's Note:**

> If y'all like this, please let me know what other characters from any fandom you'd like to see punch the Cheeto Overlord in the face.


End file.
